


The Token of Truth: Dangers of the Temple of Truth

by RORYhomie



Series: The Token of Truth [2]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Deutsch | German, Don't worry, Hurt Donald Duck, Scrooge finds out about Donald's self-esteem issues, Still, Suicidal Mentions, again only a little of it tho, but oh no - something goes wrong, everybody actually loves Donald, i hope it's sad actually, not too sad tho, ok so this whole thing is a mess, still Scrooge's POV, that actual adventure part - whoo hoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:01:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22589080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RORYhomie/pseuds/RORYhomie
Summary: Scrooge and family finally find the Temple of Truth - but which truths about Donald will they uncover?a.k.a. Scrooge realizes he has more than three nephews and everybody actually really cares about Donald (who is kinda suicidal tho)
Series: The Token of Truth [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1625344
Comments: 10
Kudos: 165





	The Token of Truth: Dangers of the Temple of Truth

After some more confusion, they finally got out of the mall and walked to the plane.

“You got it?” asked Launchpad. Scrooge nodded.

“Set the coordinates to…” he suddenly looked at his empty hands.

“Donald, where is the map?”

“What?” Donald jumped at his name, seemingly disturbed from deep thought.

“The map lad,” Scrooge stretched out his hand.

Maybe he should let him rest a bit before they get there, yes, that sounds like a good idea.

He rolled out the map and…” We’ve been tricked?! It’s empty!

“What!” sounded from all around him.

“But that’s impossible, I’ve checked and there was a X right here-“ said Donald angrily and placed his finger on a spot on the map, which responded to this contact with revealing not only the X but also the rest of itself.

“Oooh, that makes sense,” realized Louie, “he ‘bought’ it, so it listens to him!”

Scrooge let out an angry huff.

“It does make sense Uncle Scrooge,” chimed in Della and laid her hand on his shoulder. “Let him navigate and take a rest.”

A rest? A rest?! He was Scrooge McDuck the world’s greatest adventurer, he didn’t “take rests”, he led, he explored, he…ended up sitting with the kids and Della watching old Darkwing Duck episodes, while Donald was sitting by Launchpad navigating. After what seemed like years of listening to Della and Dewey singing the earworm that was the show’s theme song, the plane had finally landed in a jungle on the other side of the world from where they’d found the map.

Scrooge took a deep breath. Finally, he was in charge again. As they set foot on the richly dark soil, he felt like himself again. He used his cane as a machete, drawing apart the dense vegetation and led his family to a temple which peaked, ever so slightly, above the green.

To his delight, Donald did not seem to want to trade places in the slightest, being busy spraying all the kids with insect repellent and asking them about their flight. Just out of curiosity he peeked at Della, who, also looking at her brother, scrunched her face a bit. Envy. Scrooge just sighed. They were going to figure it out, he was sure of it. If not them, then nobody. But these thoughts were quickly overshadowed by the actual shadow of the temple. A tall, pyramid-like structure, consisting mostly of stairs. He heard Louie sigh.

“Come on lad, perseverance is one of the key characteristics of a successful businessman!” he called.

“It’s easy to say now,” the boy pouted gesturing to the stairs, “but wait when we’re up.”

Della just smiled. “How about we make it a race?” she suggested.

“Race ya!” shouted Dewey and touched Webby’s arm.

“Oh, you think you can beat me?” she screamed back and followed him.

“Wait! I don’t think it’s safe to run on these! They are very old! Hey!” warned them Huey, also running up the stairs.

Followed by Louie shouting: “Hey, don’t you think you’re finding the treasure without me!”

Scrooge just smiled and also started climbing, followed by his niece and nephew. It did take a while, but to his surprise, the stairs had no traps on them and, unlike what Huey had predicted, did not seem to be falling apart. They stood in front of the entrance to the temple - a dark tunnel. He furrowed his brows; he didn’t bring a torch.

“Huey?”

“Ugh! Out of batteries!” the boy said, shaking his pocket torch. “But we’re in a forest, maybe we could make some?”

“Good thinking lad!” complimented him Scrooge and picked up a twig lying in front of him.

Huey in the meantime took out his medical kit and used the bandage to wrap around the wood. Della then came in with some matches and lit it on fire. Huey smiled at her and she ruffled his head. Again, Scrooge couldn’t help but peak at Donald, but he, to his surprise, was wearing a sad smile instead of the expected jealous frown. Odd. They finally entered the tunnel, Scrooge with the torch in the lead, then the children and then Della and Donald.

_Sie alle hassen dich._

Whispered a quiet voice from the walls.

“What in the Dismal Downs is that?” asked surprised Scrooge.

Everybody turned to Donald, who looked uncharacteristically pale.

“It’s nothing really, nothing,” he smiled.

“Is it a warning?” continued Scrooge.

“No, don’t worry,” Donald shook his head.

“Then what is it?” demanded Scrooge.

Donald just fixed his surprisingly sad eyes on his and said: “I will let you know if they say anything important.”

There was something wrong. But it had to wait, because now, they were surely only steps away from the Token of Truth. Whatever it was, they could ask him later. Scrooge shrugged and entered deeper into the tunnel. The darkness got darker and the whispers grew louder.

_Sie brauchen dich nicht._

_Du warst nur ein Ersatz für eure Mutter. Und sie ist jetzt zurück, und du nutzlos. Aber das wars du immer, nicht wahr? Der dumme, der ungeschickte, der überschüssige – das schwarze Schaf der Familie Duck._

The last word caught Louie’s attention. “Hey, did it just whisper our surname?”

“No,” sounded Donald’s voice in the dark, “it was a different word, which sounds similar. Don’t worry.”

“What?” asked the green duckling, “sorry, there’s echo and I didn’t get it.”

As if answering the whispering grew even louder.

_Er versteht dich nicht. Und er versucht es nicht. Weil er sich um dich nicht kümmert. Es wäre besser hättest du dich im Weltraum verlo-_

„SHUT UP!“ The sound of Donald’s scream echoed through the tunnel and suddenly something clicked.

“Donald, what have you done?” asked Della annoyed, as they were being chased by a giant boulder for another fifteen minutes until it fell through a trapdoor in the floor.

Everybody was breathing heavy and looking around, trying to see something in the darkness, because, of course, the torch went out.

“Sorry,” sounded from behind her.

"Never mind that unwanted disruption,” said Scrooge sharply in the direction of Donald’s voice, “we are close, I can feel it. We’ll continue without light and _quietly_. Everybody, hold hands.”

He felt a small hand slide into his own and held it.

“Everybody holding on?”

A quiet murmur of agreement encouraged him to move.

“Wait,” whispered Donald’s voice.

“I’m holding you, you dummy, come on,” whispered Della and everybody moved forward.

The whispering continued.

_Du bringst sie alle in Schwierigkeiten, hätten sie sich verletzt, wäre es nur deine Schuld._

_Du warst ein schlechter Sohn und bist ein schlechter Bruder, Neffen und Elternteil. Sie wären ohne dich in mehr Sicherheit und auch glücklicher._

_Warum denkst du, dass sie es nicht gemerkt haben, als du auf der Insel warst? Sie haben dich nicht gesucht, weil sie dich nicht vermisst haben._

_Du solltest dort gestorben sein._

_Du wolltest sich so viel Mal töten, aber hast es nicht gemacht._

_Du bist ein Feigling!_

Whatever the last sentence was, it was full of hate. But Donald said nothing, so Scrooge figured he’d ask him on their way back home. They continued walking in silence for another while when- Finally, they’d reached the end of the tunnel and stepped into a large room without a roof.

“Alright, is everybody okay?” asked Scrooge as he finally stepped into the light, realizing the annoying whispering did not reach this room as well.

“Yes!” sounded the resounding answer.

“Wait! Where’s Uncle Donald?” called Huey.

“I was holding his hand, he went behind me,” said Della.

“Eh, no? I was walking behind you,” answered the blue triplet.

“What do we do now?” Webby turned her face to Scrooge.

“Ach, that nimrod must have gotten lost,” he huffed, “I bet he could get lost on his own boat.”

“He did once,” chimed in Dewey, “we thought he was joking but he wasn’t.”

“Curse me’ kilts, we’ll pick him up in our way back. It’s just a tunnel without side corridors, we’ll find him.”

And with that he started to look around. Finally, on the other side of the room, Webby found something which looked like an altar, covered in ancient writing, with what seemed a solid golden coin, the size of a plate, sticking halfway up from it.

“Oooo!” swooned the kids and Della.

“Webby, now it’s time for your knowledge of dead languages! Is it cursed?”

The girl focused on the altar and confusedly read the short message over and over.

“Well?” he asked impatiently.

“I’m just thinking that it’s strange how the name of the artefact is an alliteration in English, but not in its original language, that’s odd.”

“Ach, so if that’s al- “

“No, it also says, that the token will only reveal itself, if the temple takes a human sacrifice,” she added dumbfounded.

“Wait what? But it’s already half-way out,” speculated Della.

“Exactly, that’s what’s confusing me, it should be hidden!”

“Maybe,” interrupted them Scrooge, “somebody had been here before us and we don’t have to worry about it!”

And he strolled up to the token and pulled on it slightly, pulling it up and freeing it from its stone prison.

“I cannae believe it! After almost fifty years, the Token of Truth is finally mine!”

He spun around holding the golden artefact in his arms.

“Now I will be the smartest duck in the wo- “

But suddenly the room shook, and a deep voice came from the walls.

_Wenn du die Kundgebung der Wahrheit nimmst, nehme ich deinen Neffen._

Della turned to Scrooge: „I don’t know about you, but to me it sounded like a warning.”

But he just shrugged. “If the token is so smart, it must know, that I cannot take seriously a warning that I can’t understand,” he retorted, and the room shook again.

_Your claim has been judged as truthful._

Scrooge just gave his niece an I-told-you look and was about to continue walking when the booming voice spoke again.

_I will repeat my warning._

“See? I told you it was a warning!” said Della sharply.

_Take the token, and I will take your nephew._

In his peripheral vision, he saw Della grab the kids and hug them tight.

“I will protect you!” proclaimed Webby stepping in between the boys and the tunnel.

Suddenly, Louie poked Huey and they shared a scared look.

“What is it boys?” asked Della.

Huey swallowed. “Ehm, Uncle Scrooge, we’re not your only nephews in the temple.”

Louie joined in, tearing up: “That’s why the coin was not sunken all the way down in the altar!”

Realization washed over Scrooge like a wave of icy water. He slowly locked eyes with Della, who must have mirrored his look of disbelieve.

“Token of Truth, where is Donald Duck?!” he shouted at the treasure.

And the cold walls of the temple answered.

_One foot in the grave._

He heard the token fall to the ground but didn’t remember letting it go. Suddenly he felt as if somebody had chained him to the ground, unable to move, every second an eternity.

“Uncle Scrooge? Uncle Scrooge! Mr. McDuck!!” shouted Webby, snapping him out of his trans.

“What are we going to do?” her voice was shaking, and her eyes were watery.

Scrooge just turned to the rest of his family. Louie was crying and Dewey was tearing up as well. Huey was shaking with what seemed a combination of sadness and anger and Della just stared blankly ahead, just like he’d done before.

He cleared his throat. “I’ll go get him. You,” he pointed at the others, but mostly Della, “will try to put the token back.”

He nodded to reassure them. And himself.

Then he ran into the dark tunnel. Behind him he heard Louie’s sobs and Della’s voice, telling the other kids what to do. He was running, he couldn’t see, and he knew, it would have been better to carefully examine every spot, but he couldn’t bring himself to slow down.

“Donald? Donald?!” he shouted over and over again.

“Ya dumb duckling, where are yea Donald? DONALD!”

The last cry caused him to violently cough and when he tried to shout again, he couldn’t. Only then did he realize that not only were the walls still whispering, but also that now, it was in English.

_You’re useless. Everybody hates you. They’ll be better off with you dead – just give up._

No, this can’t be what they were saying that whole time, could it?

_The most useless, the dumbest and the most redundant member of the Duck family._

_Nobody’s looking for you, they didn’t even notice you’re gone._

That made Scrooge mad and he gathered his strength to at least talk back. “That’s not true! We are looking for him!”

Somewhere in front of him he heard a sob. Donald!

“Donald, it’s me!”

_You know it’s not true, the real Scrooge would never come back for you. He hates you._

“Lies! I did come back for you lad! I’m here!”

Another distant sniffle, this time a bit closer.

_You know he’ll never like you as much as Della, that is if he even likes you at all._

“Don’t listen to this Donald! I care! I’m here!”

_He wishes it was you, who got lost in space._

This one struck a nerve as Scrooge remembered the argument they had before Donald took the eggs. It was this thing he said that finally made Donald leave.

“I know I’d said that but trust me, there isn’t a day I don’t regret it!”

A wail, a bit to the right.

_You should just give up, you’re already hallucinating. Finally finish your old plans and die._

Old plans?

_You’d planned to kill yourself for so long, but you’ve never done it._

_You coward!_

“Lad is that true?” Scrooge's throat felt tight.

“If, if it’s my fault I-I’m so sorry lad! I couldn’t bear to lose you! Please don’t give up! Think of the kids!”

_They don’t need you; you aren’t even their parent._

“Of course, they do! Donald please!”

_You will die here, just accept it._

“Not if I have a say in it!” cried Scrooge before tripping over something soft. And covered in feathers.

“Donald!” He heard muffled sob followed by the smallest voice he’d ever heard.

“Unca’ Scrooge?”

He hugged his nephew and held him tight, stroking his head like when he was a little duckling. He was probably crying a bit, but it was dark, and nobody could see that. And even if they did, he wouldn’t care. The relief of holding his wee boy again put all shame aside.

“Let’s get you out of here.”

“No,” sounded the surprising answer, “we have to get the kids!”

Scrooge almost wanted to argue but feeling the small weight of his nephew leaning on his shoulder and hearing his weak words, made him rethink this decision.

“Alright lad, lean on me.”

And they went back to the room through the tunnel. Which kept whispering similar accusations and advice, until came one surprise.

_You should’ve let Scrooge shoot you back then._

“Is that what this is? The tunnel of lies?” he asked Donald, relieved.

Hopefully all of this talk of his nephew wanting to die and thinking everybody hates him, was all a lie. A trick of the temple.

“No, that’d actually happened.”

What? When? Scrooge couldn’t remember. But Donald had agreed with such certainty. With a heavy heart, he realized it probably means that everything else had been true as well.

The millisecond after they stepped into the altar room, Donald had been tackled to the ground by everyone in it. All of the kids now sobbing and Della holding onto him, seemingly afraid to let go.

Scrooge wiped his own eyes on his sleeve and said: “Okay, let’s go home.”

Everybody got up and Della helped Donald to stand on his feet. But he looked at Scrooge confused.

“What about the token?”

He just waved his hand. “It’s not worth it.”

“But you’ve been searching for it for fifty years!”

“And now I’ve found it, and I am going to leave it here. Let’s go,” he answered sternly and entered the tunnel, which was, to his surprise, silent.

Donald went second and the whispers began again.

“Kids,” he turned to them, “I need you all to cover your ears.”

They looked at him in confusion.

“The walls now speak in English and I,” Donald paused and took a deep breath, “I don’t want you to hear what they say.”

The kids smiled at him and did as he’d asked.

“Is it dangerous to listen to?” asked Della.

“No, it’s just too personal I guess,” he shrugged weakly.

“Should I also cover my ears?”

“No, or-I’ll leave it up to you.”

She didn’t.

Walking in the dark, without holding hands, which the kids had on their ears, was difficult, but Scrooge saw the reasoning behind Donald’s decision and when they’d finally gotten out into the daylight, he knew Della saw it as well. She looked shocked but mostly very, very sad.

On their way back to the plane, Donald insisted on walking unsupported, so that the kids could hold his hands. Louie, still sniffling, walked on his right, while Dewey walked on his left, uncharacteristically quiet. Webby, similarly quiet, together with Huey, held onto Della and walked behind their uncle. Not letting him out of their sight.

“Did ya’ get it?” sounded Launchpad’s voice from the plane.

“Nae,” shook his head Scrooge.

That surprised the pilot. “Is everything ok? Ya’ll seem quiet.”

“Donald,” Scrooge started but didn’t know how to finish, “he, ehm, got hurt.”

“Oh, okay. So, we’re going home?”

“Yes.”

Launchpad nodded and started the plane, while Scrooge watched Donald plop exhausted into one of the seats. He looked weak and thin. Was it possible that the temple was sucking out his strength? Quite probably. Otherwise he wouldn’t have been “one foot in the grave”. He must get some energy back.

He grabbed a bottle of water and walked over to him to hand it to him. Della noticed what he was doing and took a granola bar from her pocket. Donald gladly took both and ate and drank while Louie and Webby snuggled up in his lap and Huey and Dewey hugged him each from a different side. Della snuggled up to Dewey and soon, all of them fell asleep. Scrooge did not.

He watched his kids, all together, and thought about how often he was close to losing them. And with Donald’s suicidal tendencies, it was a miracle he was still with him. All those horrible things he’d just heard in the tunnel must have been his thoughts, the truths he didn’t want to share. How long had he been fighting it?

He imagined the little boy who came to him with his sister all those years ago. The boy he could cradle in his arms and who fought so hard to be understood. His brave little lad. Thinking himself a coward.

No, he will have to make it right by him, but how? How do you fix years for broken self-esteem? All these questions were swirling through Scrooge’s head, but one overshadowed them all.

When had he ever almost shot him?

The answers had to wait, because first, they all had to eat, shower and sleep.

After the plane finally landed in front of the manor, Mrs. Beakly awaited them at the door. From her surprised expression it was obvious that the situation had ended up looking differently, then how she expected. Webby ran up to her and hugged her tight.

“Are you alright?” asked the housekeeper.

Webby just nodded into the hug and did not let go. Mrs. Beakley looked up and met Scrooge’s gaze, he gestured that he’ll explain. So, she didn’t ask and made them all a quick meal, after which they bathed and went to sleep. It was only eight p.m., but this was a special occasion. Nobody slept in their room either, they just huddled on the couch in the living room and slept there.

In the meantime, Scrooge took Beakley to the kitchen, where he explained what had happened. She just nodded, but her gaze was soft and when he was finished with his story, she recommended him to go and join his family on the sofa. He did.

The next day was a Sunday, the beginning of which they’d spend watching movies, still on that very same couch. But around three p.m. Donald persuaded the kids to go do their homework, or at least some of it. While he himself went to the boat to get some of his stuff. They’d reached a silent agreement that he was moving in, at least for a little while.

Finally, Scrooge would get the chance to talk to him.

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:  
> Sie alle hassen dich. – They all hate you.  
> Sie brauchen dich nicht. – They don’t need you.  
> Du warst nur ein Ersatz für eure Mutter. Und sie ist jetzt zurück, und du nutzlos. – You were just a satnd-in for their mother. And now she’s back and you’re useless.  
> Aber das wars du immer, nicht wahr? – But you’ve been that already, haven’t you?  
> Der dumme, der ungeschickte, der überschüssige – das schwarze Schaf der Familie Duck. – The stupid, the clumsy, the redundant – the black sheep of the Duck family.  
> Er versteht dich nicht. Und er versucht es nicht. Weil es sich um dich nicht kümmert. Er wäre besser hättest du sich im Weltraum verlo- - He doesn’t understand you. And he’s not even trying to. Because he doesn’t care about you. It would have been better, had you gotten lost in spa-  
> Du bringst sie alle in Schwierigkeiten, hätten sie sich verletzt, wäre es nur deine Schuld. – You bring them all into trouble, had they gotten hurt, it would have been your fault.  
> Du warst ein schlechter Sohn und bist ein schlechter Bruder, Neffen und Elternteil. Sie wären ohne dich in mehr Sicherheit und auch glücklicher. Warum denkst du, dass sie es nicht gemerkt haben, als du auch der Insel warst? Sie haben dich nicht gesucht, weil sie dich nicht vermisst haben. – You were a bad son and are a bad brother, nephew and parent. They would have been safer and happier without you. Why do you think they hadn’t noticed, when you were on the island? They haven’t looked for you, because they didn’t miss you.  
> Du solltest dort gestorben sein. – You should have died there.  
> Du wolltest sich so viel Mal töten, aber hast es nicht gemacht. – You’d wanted to kill yourself so many times but haven’t done it.  
> Du bist ein Feigling! – You are a coward!  
> Wenn du die Kundgebung der Wahrheit nimmst, nehme ich deinen Neffen. – If you take the token of truth, I will take your nephew.


End file.
